


Inspiration, Your Muse

by LaBelleIzzy



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Good Writing, Humor, Writing, Writing About, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleIzzy/pseuds/LaBelleIzzy
Summary: She sat in the corner, picking Her immortal teeth...
Kudos: 4





	Inspiration, Your Muse

INSPIRATION

She sat in the corner, picking her immortal teeth.

"You've got to give me something to work with here," she said between scrapes. "I mean, really!"

He grimaced again, and ran both hands through his hair, standing it up on end. "I insist on going with the assumption that human romantic relationships are inherently comical," he said, through clenched teeth.

"Or inherently tragical," she contributed helpfully. "In which case, you'd want my sister, not me."

"Well, I don't want to get all Shakespearean," he retorted. "I just want to find a way of getting this last girlfriend out of my system. And it seems healthier to me to write her into a comedy than to make a big drama about it."

The Muse shook her bottle of glittery pink nail polish, critically eyeing the color against her tunic. She wrinkled her nose. "But your whole writing experience has been spent on tragical love poetry: lyrical assessments of this one's eyes, that one's hair, the third one's milky fair skin, bemoaning your disappointment that the ladies in question were always with some other bucko." 

A snap of her fingers turned the polish in her left hand darker by several shades. A satisfied nod. "While I admire the idea, and the therapeutic intent, I don't know if you're up for the job." She unscrewed the top of the bottle, carefully extracting the brush. Stretching out her lovely lithe legs before drawing them up under her, she commenced to apply polish to her littlest toenail. The tip of her tongue stuck out as she concentrated on her task.

The young man rose from his seat to pace in frustration around the room. "What am I, a sucker? I knew it would end badly the moment we met. Tracy was the opposite of everything I've ever said I wanted. We had nothing in common except plain animal lust... "

She glanced up from under her eyelashes. "There's something to be said for lust, you know. Epics have been written, cities sacked, men knifed in their bath, for passion."

He frowned. "Yes, but…"

"Yes, but nothing!" she retorted. "Passion is the engine that drives the world. Look at your passion for writing, your desire to master different styles, to communicate your thoughts, ideals, and emotions. And despite your previous single-minded attempts it was that passion that encouraged me to visit you. To see what stuff you're made of, if you catch my meaning."

He looked up, eyes wide. "Do you really think I can write?"

She snorted, "Any six-year-old can put pencil to paper. You sir, have the potential to move laughter or tears. You've had it for ages, but you never had the confidence to believe you could. Now. Put yourself in my shoes. Some young pup is asking you for advice on writing a comical piece. What would YOU say to him?"

He gnawed his lip as he walked slowly to the window. Leaning on the sill, he glanced back at her. She was unwrapping a stick of Juicyfruit. "Look for the ridiculous? " he ventured.

"Excellent!" She shouted, hurtling out of the chair and into a somersault that sprawled her on the rug, tutu askew.

He burst out laughing. 

She raised her head and waggled her eyebrows at him. "Find your own life's metaphorical pratfalls. You can always be the jester in your own romantic comedy. Try on the crazy costumes, play with the silly hats. "She raised herself up on one elbow, intent. "Intuit your own moments of sacred silliness - what's the craziest thing you did to impress this girl? Didn't you make outlandish promises to make her giggle? Weren't you just a lovesick FOOL?"

She smirked and gracefully rose to her feet, retrieving her groucho glasses from the floor. Waggling her fingers, she tossed her parting remark over her shoulder. "Bye, loverboy. Can't wait to see how it turns out!"

He grinned as she vanished. Sitting down at his typewriter, he said to the empty air, "Thalia, you've got a wicked sense of humor," and rolled a sheet of onionskin into his Remington.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  
> I wrote this piece for a writing circle I was in during May 2003. The constraint was, single sheet of paper, single-spaced, 10 point Times New Roman font. Oh, and "Write something funny!"  
> Many thanks to Mars, who started the group, invited six or seven of us to his home, developed the prompts, and the structure for that particular workshop. I found this piece in a hard copy file folder that had been boxed up for at least 10 years. I'd been thinking about it recently, it was a favorite of mine, and I've wanted to share it. I'm glad and proud to say that I feel like this stands up well after all this time.
> 
> A note about then, and now:  
> In 2003 many people I knew had access to a computer in their home. Or a computer at the library. In January 2020, I've just finished transcribing this on my smartphone, by using the microphone dictation app. In 2003, it would have cost more than $15 an hour to transcribe written text, because it was a specialized skill, and OCR wasn't reliable nor widely available. And here I can do it with ease, even in my living room, because the technology is where it is. I'm doing a significant fraction of my writing these days by using this dictation app. I'm enjoying it, and I'm very glad, grateful even, to have the option of a laptop, a cell phone for notes, and the dictation app which is really a game changer.


End file.
